Even 'Scrooge' Had 'A Wonderful Life'
by SallyJetson
Summary: Post Silent Night... what happens after Lindsay has her flashback in the morgue?... does she turn to Danny for help?


Authors Note: Post Silent Night. Spoilers for "Silent Night"

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. Everything else however is mine.

**Even 'Scrooge' Had 'A Wonderful Life'**

The soft tapping on the door brought Danny out of his ESPN induced daze. He had been watching it for 3 hours straight since he arrived home after a harrowing day at the lab. But thankfully the cases had been wrapped up and Mac had uncharacteristically given everyone a reprieve on the paper work until after the holidays. He heard the tap again, this time a little more insistently. Who could it be at…. 11:00 pm, on Christmas Eve, no less… he noted, as he checked his watch. He groaned slightly as he hauled himself off the couch and walked to the door to peer through the peep hole. At first all he could make out was brown… waves… then as the brown waves rotated out of sight, a sight-for–sore-eyes face came into view. She had a hesitant look in her eyes and she bit her bottom lip in consternation, clutching a thermos, in her mitten-clad hands, tightly to her chest. Anxious to put her at ease, he pulled back the bolts and opened the door to her slightly surprised face.

"Hey Montana," he greeted her casually, but he felt anything but casual inside. For what seemed to be an emotional breakthrough between them, at an undercover case, where she had bravely stared down a murderer and diamond smuggler at gun point, to the next week where she had stood him up for dinner without explanation, things between them had been distant to say the least. He hadn't understood then, even when she had given him an explanation, and he was even more puzzled as she stood at his doorstep, sporting a hesitant pose and a questioning look in her face. But he was a curious guy to say the least. So he stepped back and held out his hand to beckon her in.

She walked in and stopped right beside the couch turning to look at him and as he finished sliding the bolts into place, he turned to her with his eyebrows raised and a slight smile on his face.

She held out the thermos to him.

"For you," she stated simply, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He took it from her outstretched hand, eyeing the red plaid patterned thermos, as he turned it from side to side. He wondered where it came from, it looked very… retro.

"What is it?"

"Hot buttered rum."

"Really? I like hot buttered rum," he assured her as he unconsciously licked his lips

Her face brightened considerably at that admission and she continued, "It's… it's… uh… you know… a Christmas present."

"Really…" he said this time in complete surprise and his brow furrowed slightly. "But… I didn't get you anything..." he trailed off embarrassed for himself in the face of her simple generosity.

She blushed and ducked her head slightly before she lifted her head again and met his eyes unabashedly for the first time that night, "Actually you have."

"What do you mean…" he queried completely puzzled at this but more curious than ever.

"Um… someday, I'll tell you about it… but I better go. It's late," she said softly, as she made a move toward the door.

He couldn't let her leave like that. It was the closest he had been to her in months and the warmest, most meaningful conversation they had had in as much time. He _wanted_ more, he _needed_ more. He quickly sidestepped into her path and he was looking down at the top of her head, the fresh sweet fragrance of shampoo wafting up to his nostrils. She was staring into his chest, but she made no move to go around him. He took her hesitation as a sign that she could be persuaded otherwise. He lifted the thermos in between their bodies.

"Share some hot buttered rum with me," he coaxed softly.

She gazed up into his eyes and he saw a flicker of need in her eyes. What kind of need, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't one to waste opportunity, so he deftly guided her by the elbow to the couch.

"Take off your coat and make yourself comfortable and I'll get us some mugs," he tossed back to her, over his shoulder, as he made his way into the kitchen.

She slid off her coat and mittens and threw them on a chair, kicked off her shoes and settled herself into a corner of his couch with her feet tucked under her. She felt oddly comfortable and relaxed as she looked around, distractedly, at his apartment. The TV was on ESPN with the volume turned down and a dim lamp shadowed most of the room. But she really wasn't concentrating on the room, but more on the conversation going on in her head, the one that she had felt compelled to have with him, since she had that awful flashback at the morgue. She just didn't know if she had the courage to voice the thoughts that had been playing in her mind since she had broken down in front of Stella almost 2 weeks ago.

He returned and held a mug over her shoulder as he stood behind the couch. She reached up, took it from him and followed him, with her eyes, as he came around and settled himself in the other corner of the couch, one knee bent up on the couch. He laid his arm along the back of the couch and his long, sensual fingers were very close to her. She felt her body, heat slightly, as it always did when she was in close proximity to him.

He took a sip and an approving look came over his face.

"Tasty… you make this often?"

She smiled at him as she took a sip from her own mug, her eyes peeking at him over the mug. After she had swallowed her first sip, she sighed slightly.

"I have to agree with you there…tasty."

He noticed she didn't answer his question. He didn't mean to pry, but he couldn't help himself.

"Is this a Christmas tradition?"

"Yeah, it is," she said softly.

She looked thoughtfully down into her mug and when she looked up again there was an intensity burning in her eyes.

"Have you ever been given a chance to see your what your life could have been, if… if things had gone differently?" she asked earnestly.

He wasn't quite sure what she was asking, but he wasn't about to deter her if she were ready to talk about her past. He knew she had been struggling emotionally and fighting her own demons since that heartbreaking talk in the hallway, where she had put an end to their potential involvement. The rumors, floating around the lab, about her abruptly leaving the crime scene and breaking down in the morgue, had only confirmed his suspicions that it was something horrendous from her past that had sent her scurrying away from him, when things had taken a turn for the serious. He braced himself. He couldn't actually believe she was going to unburden herself to him. He had said he would be here for whatever or whenever she needed. He was here!

"No, I can't say that I have," he replied softly.

She lapsed into silence for a few moments and they companionably sipped their rum. He didn't feel the need to press her… just having her here on his couch was enough for him. He would be ecstatic, never knowing, if she would just stay on his couch for the rest of his life. He didn't know how that thought had come into his head but seeing her here now, the light playing softly across her face, casting a tiny shadow into the cleft of her chin, her eyes deep brown and soulful, her hair waving softly down to her shoulders, and her slight body ensconced in the corner of his couch with her legs tucked comfortably under her, made him want to keep her here forever.

When she looked up again at him, she couldn't believe how handsome he looked, lazily leaning back against the arm of the couch. She hadn't really talked with him in several months, but his eyes were as blue and piercing as always, the soft whiskers framed his lips in way that made her want to stroke them tenderly and he bore effortlessly, that well-toned body that could not be hidden by the casual jeans and sweater he wore.

She took a deep a breath. 

"Have you ever seen those movies that take you back in time, to show you how great your life has been, so that you'll appreciate what you have now?"

"Sure, Scrooge, I've seen it." he shrugged as he took another sip from his mug.

"And 'It's A Wonderful Life'," she added with a faraway look on her face.

"Yeah, my Ma loves that one, watches it every year on Christmas Eve," he reminisced with her.

"Well, I've kind of had an experience like that… except in a twisted sort of way," she said focusing her eyes on him again.

Intrigued, he inquired, "Uh, how is it… twisted?"

She paused, he waited.

When she began speaking again, he wasn't sure if it was about anything remotely related to her past because it sounded all so familiar to him.

"One day well over a year ago, I came to work in a fascinating place in an exotic city. It had been my dream for as long as I could remember. And I was finally here! But at the same time I was extremely apprehensive and overwhelmed by the vastness of the city, the fast pace of my new work place and my worldly and knowledgeable coworkers. I struggled to try to fit in and was immediately thwarted by some cocky, wise-ass that got me reprimanded by my boss, my very first day on the job."

She took a sip of rum at this point, so he couldn't read the expression on her face, but he cringed slightly anyway, at that memory. He hadn't really had it in for her, just wanted to see how she'd play under his razzing. She had passed, he remembered fondly, with flying colors and that brought a smile to his lips.

She smiled back at his smile and continued.

"But it didn't stop there, next thing I knew I had my very own special name, ' Montana', from that same cocky wise-ass" and she accented her nickname just way he did.

He stuck out his bottom lip and nodded his head laughingly.

"But the funny thing is… was, that only _he_ called me that… and it began to grow on me. And then one night as I arrived at a crime scene, all dressed up from the opera, he said to me," her eyes got a faraway look again as she receded into her memories. "he said to me… '_Well hello, Ms. Monroe. Wow you look real nice_' and that is the first time my heart skipped a beat when he spoke to me."

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he realized how vividly she was recalling these exchanges, making it real once again for herself, as well as for him.

"After that, all I wanted to do was to be around him, hear him say my name, ' Montana'…. I invented all sorts of little situations and excuses to be close to him… from inviting him out to drinks to show him who knew our boss better, to accepting a dare and eating fried bugs and spiders which I promptly threw up when I could make it to the ladies room," she finished with a small giggle.

He grinned at that! He knew at some level he deserved to win that bet. Even though she had eaten the exotic food, she hadn't fared well afterwards. His heart tugged, though, when he realized what she had done just to impress him and be with him.

Now she was looking directly at him with a more somber look on her face again.

"But it was when I weaseled him into carrying me across a crime scene for drinks and eventually dinner that I knew I was hooked."

He was surprised by the strong admissions she was making based on the strained relationship they'd been having the past few months. He hadn't said anything up to this point and he wouldn't, as long as she kept talking.

She didn't disappoint him as she went on. "I was just beginning to get comfortable with the idea of us, maybe… eventually being together, particularly after that encounter during the undercover operation… then things began to fall apart."

Her voice took a definite turn here from whimsical recollection to tremoring sadness.

"And all I could think to do was to turn back inside myself as memories from my past began to haunt me again."

Tears began to fill her eyes at this point and his responded in kind.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, "And then I did the unthinkable, I shut that wonderful man out, hurting him like I've never hurt anyone before."

He couldn't stand seeing her so torn up inside and he shifted closer to her on the couch, but she held her hand up to him, to keep him from reaching out to her. And he began to worry that she was opening up to him, but it wasn't with the intention of them being together afterwards and his heart began to break all over again at that thought.

She looked pleadingly into his eyes; he wanted to turn away to hide his fear and apprehension, but her words stilled him, "Please just let me finish. I need to say it all, out loud, to you… Please?"

"Okay," he swallowed, blinking back the tears.

"From then on, I was numb and mostly on autopilot. I felt if I could suppress the feelings, all the feelings, both bad and good I could make it through somehow, someway. And… and…" she began to stammer here. She took a deep breath to regain her composure.

"and then the crime scene, with the deaf mother, and the girls in the morgue began flashing my previous life before me, in vivid detail. It was gut wrenching and painful, having all those sights and sounds crowd back upon me."

The tears began to flow down her face at this point and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger to help stem the tears that threatened spill from his own eyes.

He craved to comfort her, to take her in his arms and reassure her but he knew she needed to do this free and clear, without help from him. His help would occur only when she was ready for it.

"And then I began to curse any god that would listen, if any existed. Why did I have to relive it, why did I have to give up the happiness I had found here? I didn't understand it until the reruns came on… the ones that take you to your past life… that make you see what is in front of your eyes…"

She wiped her eyes with fingertips and sniffed to clear her head.

"Scrooge had good life, George Bailey had a wonderful life… "

She looked at him this time with tenderness in her eyes and a quivering smile on her lips, as she softly admitted to him, "And so do I."

Before, he had wanted to turn away in fear and trepidation of what was forthcoming, now he couldn't drag his eyes away in hopes that he was correctly interpreting what she was trying to say to him.

"I misread the signals… the past hadn't come to haunt me and drive me from my happiness, it had come to drive me toward my happiness, the happiness that can give me the support I need to work through it once and for all," she said, still in awe at her own revelation.

"My past isn't good or wonderful, like Scrooge's or George Bailey's, but it can make me appreciate and want, what I have right now… that is if you are still willing…," the tears shimmering in her eyes once again.

He didn't even give her a chance to finish as he gathered her in his arms and hugged her fiercely to him… his Montana, the one who had been to hell and had come back to him. He knew _she_ was going to be okay and he knew _they_ were going to be okay.

Her arms wound around his neck and she buried her face into his shoulder inhaling the scent of him that she had missed for far too long. He stroked the back of her head and pressed his lips against her forehead where her skin met her hairline. He felt her body completely relax against him and he leaned back into the cushions of the couch, cradling her in his arms.

They reclined like that, together in each other's presence, until his watch beeped the hour. He turned his arm slightly to read the time.

She pulled back so she could turn her face to look into his.

"Merry Christmas," she said softly.

"Merry Christmas," he returned as his lips settled on hers.

When they finally pulled apart, he said huskily as he traced around her lips with his index finger, "I didn't get you a Christmas present."

She pulled back, even further, to look deeper into his eyes.

"Like I said before, you already have," she smiled at him rather silly-like.

His brow furrowed perplexedly, "Uh… Montana, I think I would have remembered that."

She placed her hands on either side of his face, "Danny, you've been here for me unwaveringly, without judgment or pity or harshness, with your heart out there for me. You've showed me that happiness is possible again. That's your Christmas present to me. And I cherish it with all my heart." She finished tenderly.

And right then and there, they began their own Christmas tradition!


End file.
